The Yellow Note
by reppad98
Summary: Dawn just loves to annoy him, Paul is convinced of that. But no way he enjoys it. Nope, no way at all. One-shot. IkariShipping. Third place in Empress Empoleon's second challenge on the Pokewrite Forum.


**A/N: **Thanks so much for clicking on this story! I hope you enjoy! By the way, this is my entry for Empress Empoleon's second challenge on the Pokewrite Forum.

**Disclaimer: I don't own Pokémon.**

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**The Yellow Note**

A folded, pink note was placed on his desk by a pale hand with perfectly manicured nails. With a sigh, the purple-haired boy picked it up and opened it, his eyes quickly skimming over the four words written with purple ink.

_Hey Paul, wanna chat?_

The boy, now known as Paul, turned his head to glare at the blue-haired girl sitting next to him. She gave him a bright smile, her blue eyes sparkling mischievously, as if she didn't send that note. _As if_, Paul snorted inwardly. He freaking saw her do it!

He turned his attention back to his book, trying to focus on the words in front of him and ignoring the girl. This girl – Dawn was her name – didn't like being ignored though. He could practically feel her eyes trying to bore a hole in his head. A frustrated sigh came from his right, and a moment later he heard her furiously scribbling something again. With a dark feeling of dread he tried to focus on his book again, but he already knew what was coming.

A short minute later, his prediction came true. A light purple note was swiftly placed on the middle of his textbook, effectively eliminating any way of ignoring the annoying presence. Fighting the urge to groan, Paul picked it up and unfolded it, his blood starting to boil at the – this time – red words.

_Paulie, why are you ignoring me? You know you wanna talk to me…_

Again, he found himself glaring at her – no matter how many times he told himself that he should ignore her, she kept finding new ways of annoying him. Dawn was reading – or pretending to read, in Paul's opinion – and didn't notice his gaze. When she finally looked up to him, her eyes were filled with – again, fake – innocence and she batted her eyelashes at him, as if that would calm him down.

Giving her a glare and a short shake of his head, the plum-haired boy signaled her that she should stop.

He should've known she wouldn't listen to that.

Within a minute, another note – a light blue one this time – was placed on his book. He was determined not to give in, and ignored the offensive piece of paper.

At least, he was able to ignore it for a minute, before he heard Dawn grumble beside him and then the sound of pencil on paper. And with one swift move, she placed another note on his book, right next to the other. Before he even had time to think about ignoring it, another note was placed on his book, and another one, and another one, till the whole text was covered and it was unreadable.

Unable to keep silent any longer, he hissed in a low voice, "Stop it."

Of course, Dawn didn't listen. Another colorful note was placed on the small pile on his desk. Paul glared at her, but she didn't seem to notice, or maybe she just didn't care.

"I said, stop it!" Another low grumble escaped his lips. What was it with this girl that she made him lose his cool so quickly?

The blue-haired girl ignored him again – in fact, it seemed like she hadn't heard him at all. And when she placed yet another pink note on the pile – and a small smirk on her face showing very well that she knew she was annoying him – was that the last straw for him.

"Stop it!" he said, louder than he should have.

"Silence, mister Allen!" the teacher in the front spoke out, looking up from her book. Her piercing eyes scanned the classroom, noticed the pile of notes on his desk and then bore into his.

"What are those, mister Allen?"

Paul gulped, but beside that he showed no signs of nervousness. "Those are… notes, miss."

The woman raised an eyebrow and spoke skeptically, "Your notes?

Blood crept up to his cheeks as he looked at the pile of – girly colored – notes. In the corner of his eye he could see Dawn staring at him, eyes wide with fear. After a moment hesitation – and knowing he was going to regret it – he answered, "Yes."

"That's a very… _interesting_ choice in colors you have, mister Allen."

A few giggles came from the classroom, and she finally looked away from him. Paul almost breathed a sigh of relief, when her gaze landed on him again. She stared at him for a moment longer, before making a gesture with her hand saying that he could continue.

Finally being able to breathe again, his eyes focused on his desk. _That was a close one_, he thought. _Stupid girl, she probably wanted me to get in trouble._

After a few more minutes of silence passed, he couldn't keep quiet any longer.

"What did you do that for, troublesome girl?" he asked lowly, not able to keep the anger out of his voice.

Dawn looked up startled, an apologetic look on her face. She quickly scribbled a note again, and held it open for him so he could read it.

_I'm really sorry, I didn't mean for that to happen, really!_

"Stop writing notes, just give me an answer," he hissed angrily. Why was she playing these games with him?

Again, she smiled an apologetic smile to him and jotted down yet another note.

_I've lost my voice, heh._

He stared at those words for a few seconds, and felt his jaw dropping slightly in an oh-moment. Then he grinned at the irony. Dawn Berlitz – the gossip queen of the school, the ever present presence in every classroom and hallway, the most enthusiastically cheering person in the stands – had lost her _voice_. Hah.

Dawn was now frowning at him, annoyed at him for finding it _funny_ that she lost her voice.

_It's not funny! Stop laughing!_

Still with a small grin on his face, Paul read the note. Inwardly shaking his head at what he was going to do, he grabbed his pencil and wrote a reply.

**It isn't funny. It's just ironic.**

She glared at him and furiously wrote a response back.

_Ironic? What do you mean by that?!_

Smirking, he grabbed the note, already knowing what he was going to write.

**Exactly what you think it means. Maybe.**

A look of disbelief appeared on her face, before being replaced by frustration yet again. He could see she was writing faster, her handwriting was getting messier.

_Stop being so vague! It's mean! Ugh, you're annoying._

The look in her eyes however – that playful glint – told him differently. She was enjoying this. And, in some odd way, he found himself quite entertained too.

**You're annoying too.**

Now the boy didn't expect a reply back, since there wasn't really a response to that. Quietly he started to remove Dawn's previous notes on his textbooks, which all contained the same message, namely one word.

_Paulie?_

_Troublesome girl,_ Paul thought slightly annoyed. Folding all the pink, blue, purple, light-green and yellow notes together and putting them aside, he focused on his text again. Or well, tried to, as after a minute another note was placed on his book again.

_Wanna chat?_

Sighing, yet at the same time fighting a smile, he wrote a reply.

**No.**

He heard her snort at his reply and then the sound of her pencil on the paper. He felt a smile tugging at the corners of lips. He didn't get why he liked talking to her. After all, she was annoying, stubborn, loud, bigmouthed, easily angry, overexcited, always happy, friendly, pretty- hold on, when did this become a list of her good qualities?

_Oh c'mon, Paul, you know you want to talk to me. You're enjoying this, I can see it in your eyes. You like me, haha._

She was just playing around, he knew. His response was quick and simple.

**No.**

Now he wasn't even trying to fight the smile anymore, and just let it play on his lips.

_(in a sing-song voice) Yoouu liiikee meeee!_

_Seriously, she had to add 'in a sing-song voice'? _Paul thought. _How childish._ He knew his reply was just as childish though.

**Should I spell it out for you, troublesome girl? N.O.**

Dawn faked a look of hurt, then smirked at him when she wrote her response.

_Yes, you do._

He grimaced at her words, knowing only one appropriate reply.

**No, I don't.**

Her handwriting was getting messier as her notes came quicker.

_Yes, you do._

Paul replied with the same thing as before.

**No, I don't.**

She gave him a playful smirk when she placed the next note on his book.

_Yes, you do._

With his eyes not leaving hers, he wrote his response.

**No, I don't.**

Her blue eyes challenged him, dared him to do anything about it when she placed the next note on his desk, with very probably the same content as the previous ones.

Unconsciously he had been leaning closer to her during their conversation – if one could call it that – and now, when she placed very tentatively and slowly the note on his desk, he acted without thinking. With one swift movement, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her even closer to him, making her almost fall off her chair. That hadn't been his intention – he had just wanted to give her a little scare. Quickly and acting on instinct, he tried to catch her, and almost fell off his chair too. Fortunately he didn't, but only managed to break her fall slightly by catching her by her shoulders.

For everyone else it must've looked ridiculous – Dawn still half sitting in her chair, her hands on the ground in an attempt to break her almost fall, and Paul bending down, holding Dawn's shoulders to support her weight – but for them, it didn't. In fact, they only noticed the close proximity of their bodies and the fact that there were only a few inches of air separating their faces.

Deciding to take advantage of this moment, Paul whispered, "No, I don't."

He was surprised by his voice – it didn't sound angry at all. Not even annoyed. In fact, it sounded more… entertained? Maybe even… seductive? _What, no! _Paul called his thoughts back. He wasn't trying to seduce her! Arceus, he didn't even like her!

Her mouth was slightly hanging open, her blue eyes wide open in surprise. He smirked. Maybe he should-

"Miss Berlitz, mister Allen, I understand that you are teenagers and high on hormones, and that you have certain… _urges_, but please, control them while you are in class." The ice-cold voice of the teacher cut through the silence hanging in the classroom.

Some students had already been watching the two, but those who hadn't, turned their heads now too, and silent laughter filled the classroom. Quickly the two of them scrambled back in their chairs again, Dawn cherry red, while Paul could also feel the blood creeping up in his neck.

The woman in the front of the classroom stood there with her eyebrows raised and arms crossed, apparently expecting some kind of answer from them. When none came, she glared across the room, silencing the students once again and then went back to reading her book.

Paul couldn't find the guts to look at the girl again, and instead just stared mindlessly at his book. Well, that probably just ruined about any chance he had with her.

Not that he even had a chance in the first place.

Not that he even _wanted_ a chance with her.

Because he didn't like her.

Not _at all_.

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As soon as the bell rang, Paul quickly made his way out of the classroom – not glancing at Dawn once – and fled home, not even knowing where he was fleeing from.

Getting home, he threw his bag frustrated in a corner, a few books and papers falling out of it, including a small, yellow piece of paper. With confusion on his face, he stared at it for a moment.

_A yellow note?_ Paul wondered for a moment before curiously walking towards it and picking it up. Folding it open, he recognized the handwriting and felt a smile growing on his face as he read it.

_Yes, you do._

_562-757-5233_

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**A/N: **Thanks for reading! I really appreciate it and I really hope you enjoyed it. Please tell me what you thought about it in a REVIEW, I would love that. By the way, the phone number isn't real, I just made it up, haha.  
Thanks again!


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